Friday, March 16, 2012

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Orchids occulting in orgasmic outbursts
Birds bemoaning bestiality of blasé bystanders.
Of airplanes audaciously airborne in austere affluence
Rains reeking of rational rinsing of wretched reveries
Kafkaesque coliseums of cosmic conspiracies
Ticking time tripwire tied tantalizing taut to tapestry
He’ll hold on to hundred higher hopes in his heart
She’ll sing a song about syzygy and have sex with a sham.